


little fears // a Shourtney story

by QueenOfSapphires



Series: Shourtney bits & pieces [1]
Category: Rhett & Link, Smosh
Genre: Awkward Conversations, Awkwardness, Bathroom Sex, Drunk Texting, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Friends to Lovers, Humor, Mutual Pining, Romance, Secret Relationship, Shortney, Tags Are Hard, Texting, Weddings, shartney, shourtney
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-07
Updated: 2019-10-31
Packaged: 2020-10-11 19:09:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20551241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenOfSapphires/pseuds/QueenOfSapphires
Summary: A little Shourtney story. Originally a one-shot, now a 5-part festival of ridiculousness. 3rd chapter is NSFW.





	1. when little fears grow great, great love grows there

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, so, I'm definitely too old for this shit, but boy, was it cathartic to write.
> 
> Bear in mind that these are real people -- don't harrass them on social media. It felt VERY WEIRD to write this. It's for sure morally dubious. That said, enjoy it anyway. (Yes, I am a terrible person.)
> 
> I like pulling my fanfiction's titles from Shakespeare, this one happens to be from Hamlet.
> 
> I also enjoy writing text message conversations for some reason, that's how this one started, and then it just escalated very quickly beyond what I originally planned.
> 
> I also put it on Wattpad, but the AO3's version contains intended formatting.
> 
> Comments are appreciated.
> 
> xo

00:23 Courtney

idk man seems like im drunk enough

Having fun on the bachelorette, Court?

00:24 Courtney

so much fun

but im also currently in the ladies pretending i can’t stop peeing

just to text u in peace

Niiiiice. I won’t tell on you. Maybe.

00:24 Courtney

waterfall of pee

so watcha doin? watcha watcha watcha

dooooiiiiinnnnnnnnn

Learning some lines for Goldbergs, got a shoot on Monday. Now also laughing, because drunk you is just the best.

00:26 Courtney

wait now i really have to pee goddammit

im seriolously so proud of you

u work ur fine ass off not only on smosh n still find time to fucking study n work out like a maniac n everything

Thanks. Fine ass, huh?

00:28 Courtney

dude, the finest

shit olivias looking for me

god she’s screaming so loud they gonna kick us out of the club if i don’t come back soon

You should. Paint the town red, guys!

00:29 Courtney

yeah okay

we’re painting it pink tho

bacherelotette style

jesus can i even type anymorae

Are you sure you’re fine? Have you had much to drink?

00:30 Courtney

i absolututelyy am fine and that reminds me

i feel like im drunk enough

To?

00:30 Courtney

ask

if yooooou think im fiiiine

Not sure I follow, Courtney.

00:30 Courtney

wait need to google sth

oh yeah that’s good rod jesus

what a fucking genius

Courtney, I’m seriously starting to get worried.

00:31 Courtney

goes like this

if you want my body

and you think im sexy

come on sugar let me know

Are you quoting Rod Stewart on me right now? I’m calling Olivia.

00:32 Courtney

NO

nononononono

im fine man

the real question is do YOU

think im fine

get it?

shayne.

c’mon sugar let me know

shanyeeeeeeee

fck did you seriously call olivia

not fair

*

You up man? Something weird just happened.

00:35 Damien

Weird as in...?

As in Courtney texting me drunk, asking if I thought she was “fiiiiiine”.

00:35 Damien

Oh boy. As in: attractive?

I guess?

Hard to say. She’s hammered, man.

I’m a little worried. Called Olivia to check on her.

She also quoted “Do Ya Think I’m Sexy.”

00:37 Damien

Again: oh boy. Do you, though?

Do I what

00:37 Damien

Think she’s fiiiiiiiine ;)

Are we in middle school?

00:40 Damien

Unfortunately, we are not. Things would be much simpler in middle school. You’d just hold hands for a week, and kiss once, and then she’d break up with you over the phone, and journal about it, and everything would be out of everyone’s systems. But we’re not in middle school, and everything is still in everyone’s systems, including mine, because you’ve both been refusing to address the issue for years.

What issue goddamnit

I don’t

I mean

Fuck fuck fuck

I don’t know

00:46 Damien

FYI, she’s got it almost as bad as you do.

Just sleep on it.

Cute of you to think I’ll be able to sleep now.

*

00:50 Courtney

haaaa got my phone back from olivias slimy little hands

so where were we

I’ll pick you up tomorrow and we’ll go to anti-hangover lunch, k? Noon fine?

Also text me when you get home.

00:51 Courtney

perfect-ooo

the question of do u think im fine still stands

just sleep on it

c u at lunch

u can answer me then

02:34 Courtney

got home

can we get pizza tomorrow no wait today? i feel like i’ll want pizza at noon

k bye

*

Even though both Courtney and Damien recommended “sleeping on it,” Shayne did not get much sleep that night. He eventually managed to silence his thoughts enough to catch a couple hours of restless slumber, then woke up at 6 and went straight to the gym. Two solid hours of working out seemed like the best remedy for his raging anxiety.

It did not help in the slightest.

After he came back home and took a shower, he glanced at his phone and read a fresh text from Damien.

09:34 Damien

Slept on it?

For like 3 hrs. Didn’t help. Went to the gym. Didn’t help.

Got 2 hrs to kill and don’t know how because I can’t focus.

Also I’m gonna die of anxiety in the next 30 minutes.

Does she even remember? Was it even anything?

Can’t a friend just casually ask me whether I find her attractive?

So many questions?

09:56 Damien

They can (I don’t have to ask, I know you find me devastatingly handsome) — but we both know that’s not the case here.

Shayne and Courtney sitting in a tree

Hopefully soooooooon.

I hate you

09:58 Damien

Love you too. Keeping my fingers crossed

*

Shayne spent the rest of the morning rereading the previous night’s conversation with Courtney and trying to find any hidden meaning that it might have carried. He left his tiny apartment at 11.45, feeling even more confused than before, his heart furiously pumping in his chest. The traffic was surprisingly fine and he reached Courtney’s house sooner than he’d like.

She opened the door after the fourth knock.

“Duuuuuuuude,” she whined, trying to protect her eyes from the LA sun. “Can’t you knock more quietly?”

For all his nervousness, Shayne couldn’t help but laugh at the sight of her. She wore cute pajamas with sloths on the pants, but everything else about her demeanor screamed “bachelorette” — in particular the cartoonish picture of a penis on her forehead, scribbled with a pink marker. He saw Olivia’s hand in that one.

She let him inside and said, “You gotta give me five minutes, man.”

“Take all the time you need. I’m not that hungry.”

That was a lie, because he had skipped breakfast, but he also felt such relief that nothing else mattered. He’d expected her to either be awfully awkward, or not answer the door at all. Instead, she behaved normally. She was just Courtney. His best friend. The occasional protagonist of his sex dreams. And that was only when he had too much to drink. It was not a big deal. Not a big deal at all. They were going to be fine. She probably didn’t remember a thing, and they were just going to have a normal, friendly lunch, discuss the last night’s party and work stuff.

He sat on a couch and scrolled through some Instagram stories, while Courtney got ready in the bathroom and in her room. Still, the apartment was so small that they were able to talk freely through walls.

“Shayne, are we still going for Mexican?”

_Odd, _he thought. “Uuuuh, you wanted pizza. You said you were definitely going to crave pizza at noon. But we can do whatever.”

“Could’ve sworn I insisted on Mexican. Can we go to Chipotle?”

“You wanna puke again?” he teased, opening Olivia’s Instagram story. The first image that popped up was Olivia screaming her lungs out: “I’M GETTING MARRIED!!!”

“Excuse me, I never puke,” said Courtney. “Chipotle’s got nothing on me.”

She was ready ten minutes later. “That was quick,” Shayne remarked.

She looked mostly like herself, with just a shadow of the pink dick on her forehead. Light makeup, a bright cropped top, jeans, sneakers. An everyday, casual version of Courtney, the one he liked best.

“Thank god for extra-strong deodorant and dry shampoo. Let’s go babeeeeeey.”

She playfully hit him on the shoulder on her way out. He smiled.

While driving to the nearest Chipotle they discussed mainly the party, and Shayne was perfectly fine with that. Neither of them was eager to address the elephant in the room — besides, she probably didn’t remember anything — but other than that, everything was fine. Casual conversation, no awkward silences. Even if no one spoke, it was still comfortable. They ordered food, ate it, laughed a fair amount at Olivia’s craziness, which definitely reached its peak last night. Eventually, though, the elephant grew too big for Shayne to ignore.

“Hey, so, remember what you texted me last night?”

“Pizza, I know. I was so wrong. Chipotle is the worst and the best at the same time.” She put the rest of a taco into her mouth.

“No, I mean — before I asked about lunch.”

“Oh,” Courtney said. Here we go, Shayne thought, suddenly just as nervous as in the morning. His heartbeat quickened momentarily. “Was there anything else? I thought you just texted me to get lunch. I was stupid drunk, wasn’t I? Wait, didn’t I text you some song to listen to?”

She reached for her phone with a clear intention to come back to last night’s texts. He panicked.

“No no no no no, you don’t have to—“

But Courtney was already scrolling through the conversation. “Yeah boiii, the finest ass. Still stand by it,” she said, winking at him.

She got a little embarrassed at the end, but said only, “Oh man, can’t remember the last time I was that stupid drunk. Sorry you had to witness that. And thanks for the lunch, smart call.”

So it was… nothing. Just a figment of his wild imagination. Shayne felt somewhat relieved, but also, and he couldn’t fathom why, slightly disappointed. “Always a pleasure,” he said, trying to sound as casual as possible.

Courtney kept the conversation going on the way back to her home, but he was only partially listening, focusing instead on beating himself up for completely misinterpreting her drunken texts. He barely heard her when she invited him inside for a coffee.

“Still got just a Keurig, but you’re not Ian, so I assume it doesn’t matter.”

“What? Uhm, yes, okay, fine. I’ve got time. Coffee. Yes.”

While she was trying to make the Keurig machine cooperate, he was standing near, deeply in thought. He didn’t think he could bear the level of anxiety that not resolving this issue fully brought to the table. He needed a clearer situation. “Courtney,” he began.

“Hmmmm? Work, you dumb bitch!” She punched the coffee maker, and it started working at once. “Nice. You were saying?”

“So, um. I don’t know how to say it. I’m still thinking about your texts last night. I kind of… interpreted them in a particular way, and just wanted to make sure you didn’t mean what I thought you maybe did. What I had thought. You’ve actually already cleared that up, I just wanted to make sure, uh—“ Well, there went his ability to speak coherently.

Courtney’s hand slipped from the coffee machine. She spun towards him and said, “Yeah, I lied.”

“What? About what?”

“Everything, man!” she cried out. “I fucking hate Chipotle! I don’t know why I said that! I really wanted pizza! I wanted to confuse you because I was embarrassed! And first of all, I really do want to know whether or not you—“ she trailed off, waving her hand between them instead. “It just came to the surface yesterday, because I had too much to drink and it was Olivia’s bachelorette and everything. Made me think about this stuff. Please say something, I’m panicking.”

Shayne unwittingly put a hand on his own chest, as if that was going to calm his racing heart. He realized he’d been holding his breath and slowly let the air out.

“I—“ he tried. “How long?”

“Honestly, I don’t know,” Courtney whispered. “The Defy contracts… at first, they helped a great deal, to be honest. Kept me in check. But Defy is no more, and I don’t know if you read the new contracts word for word but—“

“I did,” Shayne blurted. “I specifically looked for a passage about personal relationships before I signed it.”

The Keurig loudly signaled that coffee was done. Courtney glanced at it, annoyed.

“Fine, contracts are out of the way, but that’s not all,” she said. “We’re public figures, Shayne. It’s problematic. If you think it’s bad now, with the shipping and everything…”

That took him off guard. “Oh. What stopped me was thinking you were just not interested at all, not some strangers on the internet. Nor contracts, frankly.”

“What? You think I’m not interested? That’s why you wouldn’t—“

“Well, yeah.”

They looked at each other, both confused. Courtney put her hand up, as if to touch him, but just then the Keurig machine beeped loudly.

“Shut uuuuup!” she yelled, punching it with her raised hand. The Keurig died, she looked back at Shayne, and something shifted in the air.

He took a step forward, put a hand onto her cheek, and would inevitably kiss her — had she not been the first to close the distance between them.

They did separate quite quickly at first, seeking validation in each other’s eyes, though everything felt so right that confirming it further was unnecessary. Still, Courtney whispered, „Yes, yes,” as she put her hands around his neck and crashed her lips against his once more.

At first, Shayne’s arms went tightly around her waist, but then he tried — and succeeded, unfortunately — to lift her up onto the high kitchen counter, which made them separate once more. She looked at him from up top.

“No, no, shit, that doesn’t work, I’m too fucking short.” They both laughed maniacally, Courtney shouted her signature “Aaaargh!” into the ceiling, and hopped back down.

She kissed him a few more times before saying, “Just so you know, Chipotle can’t count as our first date. I’d be embarrassed for the rest of my life.”

“Yeah, we’re definitely getting pizza for dinner. So, what’s your favorite pizza place?”

She punched him in the chest.


	2. april, dressed in all his trim, hath put a spirit of youth in everything

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shayne and Courtney try to keep everything under wraps at Samlivia's wedding

They had agreed to be each other’s dates to Olivia and Sam’s wedding months before, but because the paradigm has recently shifted, Courtney was no longer sure if it was a good idea.

So far, the only person who knew about them was Damien, and even that was not on purpose — one day, about a week after the bacherolette, he happened to walk in on them making out like the world’s horniest teenagers in a seemingly secluded spot in Mythical’s headquarters. He got paralyzed for a second, then yelled “Thank you, Jesus!” in a very Southern accent, hugged them both so fiercely he almost broke their necks, and that was that. Damien knew. Courtney didn’t doubt he’d keep his mouth shut — and they really, really wanted to keep this under wraps for the time being, so that they could take things slowly. But going to a wedding together… She just doubted her own ability to keep her hands off of her secret boyfriend in public. Holy fuck, Shayne Topp was her secret boyfriend. _How did that happen again?_

But after a lengthy discussion, and it was so long mainly because they kept getting distracted by each other’s mouths, they agreed that coming clean before Olivia’s wedding would not be fair to her.

“I don’t wanna steal her thunder,” Courtney said. “It was not fair when Rachel did it to Monica, so it’ll definitely not be fair if Courtney does it to Olivia.”

“You’ve seen Friends too many times, that’s for sure. But yeah, you’re right. Olivia’s the easy part, though...”

Shayne didn’t need to say more, his nervous glance was enough. Ian. They had to tell Ian. One day… Courtney suggested in about three years. Shayne disagreed. “Let’s tell him in, like, a decade. That should be just enough time for me to relax.”

“He’s not going to fire us, Shayne.”

“Fire? Nah, of course not. We’re too awesome, and that’s not what I’m worried about. I’m pretty sure he’ll just murder us in cold blood.”

He was joking, trying to make this lighthearted, but Courtney knew he was extremely stressed about it. She, weirdly, was not. She had a strange feeling Ian would be okay with the revelation.

But firstly, everything had to go smoothly on Olivia and Sam’s wedding day. They had to go back to “just best friends” mode (not that it ever worked that well for them, anyway), no suspicious touching, no equivocal glances. And above all, absolutely NO bathroom stall smooching. Basically, their every interaction had to be kosher as fuck. That’s why the main plan was to avoid each other as much as possible.

*

And so, on a beautiful mid-April Saturday, the show began. Courtney spent most of the day getting ready and helping Olivia anyway, so they weren’t supposed to see each other until the drive to the reception. Shayne was perfectly okay till then, only slightly nervous. _Just keep your dirty hands to yourself today, Shayne, and everything will be fine. _In the morning, he went indoor rock climbing with Damien to blow off some steam. The workout, along with Damien’s soothing voice constantly reassuring him while they ate an early lunch at In-and-Out, lowered Shayne’s anxiety levels significantly.

When dressing, he went for black jeans, a crisp white T-shirt, and a short-sleeved shirt with vertical black and white stripes. It was both dapper and indistinctive enough, considering that the main goal for today was not to stand out from the crowd.

And then Courtney had to go and ruin the inconspicuousness, obviously, with her perfect black dress, and her perfect pumpkin spice hair, and her perfect sparkly makeup, and…

“What?” she asked when he opened the door to his apartment and stared at her for longer than he should. “It’s just a dress, dude.”

“_Just a dress_?” he repeated, stunned. “You look like you bought a sexy witch Halloween costume for like ten grand in Gucci.”

She burst out laughing. “That’s _exactly_ what I was going for! You like it, though?”

“Court, if I was to show you just how much I like it, we wouldn’t make it to the wedding.”

Courtney grinned smugly and winked at him. He groaned. “Stooooop, or I’ll ruin your lipstick. Glad you wore flats, by the way. My masculinity is still intact.”

“Wouldn’t do it to you, Short King. Let’s go get everyone.”

Shayne did not plan on drinking – mainly to minimize the chance of doing something stupid – so he gladly agreed to be one of the designated drivers. They picked up Damien, Sarah and Claudio on their way to the venue in Santa Monica. It was a small, pretty white palace with a view of the beach and a large rose garden attached to it.

It seemed oddly appropriate for Olivia and Sam, insane as they both were on a daily basis, to opt for a very traditional reception. Olivia’s dress was all white, long-sleeved, and embroidered with slightly off-white Chinese dragons all over its bodice; Sam has never looked better, dressed in a perfectly tailored, marengo gray tux. Courtney cried quietly but shamelessly during the vows, and Shayne had to admit he was close to shedding a tear himself. He held her wrist for a while when she was sobbing into a tissue, figuring that such gesture was innocent enough in the moment.

Because they technically came as each other’s dates, they were seated at the same table; as agreed, however, Courtney eventually went to hang out with Tomey and Spencer, on a mission to hook the latter up with some cute girl. Shayne stayed with Damien, Sarah and Claudio. Ian joined them at one point as well. The party was exceptionally fun, Olivia and Sam were amazing hosts and great dancers, Ian did not seem suspicious in the slightest, and Shayne even managed not to stare at his secret girlfriend that much — everything was going smoothly. Maybe even a bit too smoothly for his liking.

*

By two in the morning, no one remembered where they were supposed to sit anymore, so Courtney hung out at a random table with Tomey’s hand around her, lazily sipping wine, a smug smile plastered to her face. They’ve been observing the glorious awkwardness of Spencer hitting it off with Sam’s distant cousin for some time now.

“How’s life, Court?” Tomey asked randomly. “Any prospects of ending your single streak?”

He was probably just casually teasing her, but Courtney tensed a bit. As if on cue, Shayne passed nearby at that exact moment, and she couldn’t help but let her glance follow him for a few seconds. She released a breath she’d been holding, and said what she always did when asked about dating. “Oh, you know me! I’m a working woman. No time for boys. Or any other gender, for that matter.”

Tomey snickered. “Come oooon, at least live a little! We’re at an LA wedding, this place is full to the brim of Hollywood eye candies.”

He was not wrong, she supposed, but Courtney’s mind has recently been occupied by one particular eye candy, and it was supposed to stay secret. As much as she wanted to confide in Tomey, she had to quickly dodge his questioning. “I should say the same—“

“COURT-BOURT!”

Olivia jumped at them from behind so suddenly that they both exclaimed out of fear. She put her tiny arms around Courtney’s neck, who felt somewhat relieved to have an excuse not to lie to Tomey anymore. “Hi. Are you guys having fun? Sorry I didn’t check on you earlier.”

“It’s awesome, Liv Liv,” Tomey answered. “Best party in town tonight.”

“Just tonight?” Olivia pulled a sad face.

“This year,” Courtney corrected.

“That’s better. CAN YOU BELIEVE I’M A FUCKING MARRIED WOMAN NOW. Anyway,” she grabbed Courtney’s arm and pulled her up from her seat. “We need to talk. Now. Garden. Chop chop.”

“Okay...?”

There was something slightly odd in Olivia’s voice, but Courtney was not about to deny her on her wedding day. Her hunch was correct, though — they barely managed to step outside, when Olivia fired, “So, Courtney, how long have you been sleeping with Shayne?”

Courtney chocked on nothing. “What?”

“How long have you been sleeping with Shayne?” Olivia repeated calmly, a smirk creeping onto her face.

“That’s—disgusting, and wrong,” Courtney managed to blurt out, “and—I don’t even get—I’ve never had sex with anyone, anywhere. Shayne is my coworker, technically, and he is terrible face-wise, and how—“

“Okay, stop, calm down, crazy.” Olivia put a reassuring hand on Courtney’s shoulder and squeezed. “Your ears are all red. I’m not asking whether or not, I’m asking when it started. You haven’t told me because of the wedding, yeah? That’s the only explanation I’ll accept.”

Courtney hid her face in her hands. “Did Damien tell you? I swear I’ll strangle him with my bare hands.”

“Damien? DAMIEN knew? It’s looking worse and worse for you there, bestie.”

Courtney looked at her through her fingers, half-expecting anger, but Olivia was having a ball instead, grinning so widely she could easily cosplay Joker. “I have so many questions!” she said, voice dripping with enthusiasm. “When? How? What’s his penis like?”

“_OLIVIA_.”

“I’m kidding. Wait... no, I’m not. I really do wanna know.”

There was clearly no point in arguing further, so a very red in the face Courtney sat Olivia on a stone bench nearby, made sure no Smosh members were within earshot, and started talking. “It happened just after your bachelorette, three weeks ago.”

“I knew it! You were texting him all evening.”

“Yeah, and I was super drunk, and I kept asking him if he thought I was, wait for it, ‘fiiiiine’.” Olivia giggled, while Courtney paced in front of her, explaining. “And I sent him some lyrics of ‘Do Ya Think I’m Sexy’ or something. The next day, he picked me up for lunch, and I was so embarrassed that I pretended I didn’t remember anything. He kept asking, though, wouldn’t let it go, and at one point I made coffee in my Keurig, and it kept interrupting us, and we just, sort of talked or whatever, and then I kissed him, or he kissed me, who cares really, and put me on the counter—“

“Hot,” Olivia said.

“—but he was too short and we couldn’t make out that way, and we laughed like maniacs, and he asked me what my favorite pizza place was, and we got pizza for dinner, and it was amazing.”

By the end of that chaotic speech, Olivia was practically suffocating with laughter. “Dude! You have it so bad! It’s the cutest thing ever! I can’t believe you didn’t tell me, though.”

“Sorry,” Courtney sighed, taking a seat next to her on the cold stony bench. Olivia hugged her. “I didn’t want to steal your thunder, you know? How did you figure it out, anyway?”

“You guys wrongly assumed I’d be too distracted, first of all. I see _everything_. And you two _never_ avoid each other on weddings and such, quite the opposite, so that was fishy as fuuuuck. Plus, I’ve been waiting for this for like a year now. Sam for even longer, he’s gonna freak.”

“Yeah, I guess I can’t even ask you not to tell him, now that you’re this lame married couple,” Courtney mocked.

“Shut up. _Now_ you’re stealing my thunder. What about Ian?”

“Nope. Not yet.”

“Oooh, poor Shayne must be going crazy,” Olivia chuckled. “It’ll be all right. I’m glad I made you tell me. You know, today is the best day of my life, no doubt, but this news makes it a thousand times better.”

“Thanks? That’s kinda putting a lot of pressure—“

“I know. If anyone can navigate this, it’s you guys.”

“But—“

Olivia rolled her eyes. “Shut up and suck it up, Courtney. I’m telling you… it’s worth it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! You’ll find some random thoughts, comments and ramblings of mine attached below.
> 
> Thanks to @bellishipper4567 (on Wattpad) for requesting this – you inspired me and it pushed me to write and actually finish this short ;)
> 
> I may have some more one-shots in mind (particularly one Ian-centered), but if you’d like to see something particular, comment below. I’ll see what I can do.
> 
> There’s a Cody Ko and a Parks and Rec reference hidden (well, not so much) there, kudos to you if you can spot ‘em.  
I have no idea how American weddings tend to go, so I kept descriptions to a minimum. Are you here for boring wedding descriptions, though? I should hope not, and that you came here for lots of awkward romance, and maybe some comedy that stems directly from the awkward romance.
> 
> I pulled Shayne’s wedding outfit directly from Damien’s real life Instagram (they recently went to a wedding of their So Random friend).
> 
> POV changes throughout, I hope it’s not too confusing.
> 
> The title is from Shakespeare’s Sonnet 98.
> 
> How’s my English, by the way? If you catch any silly mistakes, feel free to be a grammar Nazi in the comments. I try and write this using more American vocabulary, but I also study British English on the daily, so that may show sometimes to a native speaker. Also articles are fucking complicated.
> 
> It's also on Wattpad, but Wattpad sucks ass, so better stay here.


	3. these violent delights have violent ends *explicit*

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We're still at Samlivia's wedding; bathroom stall shenanigans happen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER. This one is explicit. I don’t know how it happened. I’m a bad and shameless person. I also regret nothing. Honestly, I was cackling madly to myself while writing this. If you don’t want to read such content, feel free to skip this one entirely. I’m afraid it’s impossible to skip only a part, since it’s basically one big scene and we go straight into the action.
> 
> Check out some notes at the very end, as well.

Shayne 02:54

I know we said no shenanigans, but there’s this secluded bathroom on 2nd floor & not a soul in sight. Would be a shame not to take advantage…

Courtney 02:55

gimme 10 mins ya horny boi

*

It took her fifteen minutes just to ditch Keith and Noah, who tried to recruit her to try their “new and revolutionary drinking game.” She made up an excuse about being tired and wanting to nap for a bit, which also let her climb the stairs without suspicion, because bedrooms available to guests were on the third floor. She went as far as the second, though, and found Shayne behind a corner, leaning against a wall next to a door, waiting.

A mischievous grin crept onto his face at the sight of her.

“We _could_ just use the actual bedroom, you know,” Courtney said.

He took her hand and pulled her into the men’s room. “We could, but where’s the fun in that?”

Courtney inhaled sharply, and he kissed her with a growl once the door closed behind them. They soon stumbled into a stall, making out frantically.

“Where’s the real, awkward Shayne?” she managed to breath out, while he busied himself with placing open-mouthed kisses on her neck. “Did you murder him?”

“Better believe it _is_ me,” he said, chuckling lightly against her skin. “You just haven’t seen me under the influence of Courtney Miller before.” He had her against the shaky wall, his hands roaming around her waist, and it felt obscene, and wicked, and exhilarating, and absolutely right. “Any complaints?”

“N-none,” she stuttered, twisting her hands into his hair, their lips colliding. She felt slightly dizzy, and despite the wall pressing against her back, it proved difficult to maintain balance, so one of her legs, almost without her permission, slid up his calf.

At that, Shayne abruptly broke off the kiss to look her in the eyes, a nervous frown on his face. “How much did you drink?”

“A glass of wine,” she admitted with reluctance. “Over two hours’ period. That’s nothing.”

“And did you eat anything? Because you just wobbled and I can’t—“

“I’m fully sober, Shayne, I promise. You don’t need to worry.”

“Courtney, that’s what any drunk person would say.”

She groaned. “This was your idea!”

“I know,” he sighed. “Didn’t think it through. _Me_. _I_ didn’t think it through. Let _that_ sink in. You’ve had me hypnotized, you pumpkin spice witch.”

She rolled her eyes. “Listen, Shayne, what I know for sure is that I’m super turned on right now, and this consent issue is starting to get on my nerves, and it’s also making me even more turned on, and if you don’t do _something_ quickly I’ll fucking punch you in your stupid perfect face.”

She saw him surrendering while she was speaking, and once she was done talking, he breathed one more sigh, nodded, and glanced down. His hand unhurriedly went to the rim of her dress and pulled the fabric up. He flattened the palm across her lower stomach, his fingers danced around the waistband of her black boyshorts. “Only if you’re—“

“—certain,” she finished impatiently. “Two hundred percent.”

“Okay. All right.” He put the other hand on her cheek, and touched his forehead to hers, and kissed her briefly, and gently moved past the waistband.

“Fuck,” Courtney gasped, clinging to his shoulders, while his fingers brushed against her, teasing mercilessly, and moving forward, adamant, and imminent, and firm, and she heard herself whimpering softly and—

There was a strange sound outside. They both froze in an instant.

_Is someone coming? _Courtney mouthed.

_Fucking hope not_, Shayne mouthed back.

They didn’t have to wait long to find out, because someone entered the bathroom. Probably by accident, the person banged the door loudly against a wall and muttered “Ooops”. It sounded very much like drunk Ian.

Shayne almost lost it then and there. He screamed soundlessly, and Courtney would later describe the size of his eyes in that moment as “giant-ass”. For now, she squeezed his shoulder reassuringly and silently said, _Improvise_.

It went to shit pretty quickly — Ian started peeing, and Shayne chose that exact moment to let out a stress-induced, violent sneeze that reverberated around the room.

“Shayne? That you?”

_Fuck._ “Yeah, hiiiiii, Ian! You found my secluded second floor bathroom.”

Courtney thought it remarkable how calm he managed to make his voice, especially considering the current placement of one of his fingers. She tried to focus on steadying her breath and not making a sound — a challenge, but doable, provided Shayne wouldn’t suddenly decide to move.

“Was trying to get to my room on the third,” Ian explained cheerfully, completely oblivious to what was happening right next to him. “Ooops again, I guess. Sorry to disturb your peace. That the wedding equivalent of a deep bunker?”

“Yeeeeeep. Exactly.”

“Nice.”

They were now listening to Ian washing his hands and using a paper towel to dry them off. Courtney realized he would soon leave. Shayne apparently did too, and he relaxed. His body went from completely stiff to limp, or maybe he just lost his guard for a second — whatever the reason was, his hand moved a little to a side. Courtney, not being able to help herself anymore, gave out the tiniest of moans.

“Everything okay?” Ian asked.

“Yeah, thanks,” Shayne said in an extremely casual manner.

“‘Kay. You should get back out there. Keith and Noah came up with an awesome drinking game. They’re calling it ‘Put your finger in it’ or something.”

_OF COURSE THEY ARE_, Courtney mouthed.

Steps sounded — Ian was finally moving towards the door.

“Hey, Shayne?”

“Yeah?”

“Wouldn’t ask if I wasn’t hammered, but d’you have a girl in there?”

“What?!” Shayne feigned outrage so effectively that Courtney was, yet again, left thoroughly impressed. All those years of improv were definitely paying off. “Who do you think I am?! Just go away and let me shit in peace, Ian.”

“Right. Sorry. The alcohol’s making me hear things. See ya.”

And, by some fucking miracle, he left.

Both Shayne and Courtney held their breathes for a few seconds after the door closed behind him, and exhaled only when all they could hear was a faint sound of the music from downstairs. Courtney started laughing uncontrollably, and locked Shayne in a fidgety embrace. “You were absolutely fucking wonderful.”

“Thanks. Let’s go. I’ve had enough bathroom stalls for one evening.”

“Yeah, me too. Your finger’s in my vagina, though. Can’t move.”

“Oh! Right, sorry.” He let her go and they separated, chuckling. Shayne opened the stall door. “I got paralyzed when Ian walked in, sorry about that.”

“I know, me too, dude, but not moving was the best possible decision anyway. I’ll just fix my makeup and we can go. Hey, look,” she pointed to a half-full whiskey glass left on a washbasin. “Was it there or did Ian—“

The door banged open. “I forgot my—“

It was as if time stopped. Courtney was staring at Ian over Shayne’s shoulder, her heart threatening to jump out of her chest. Ian stopped dead in his tracks, one foot inside, the other still in the corridor. Shayne was the first to move — he had to spin around to face their boss, which he did as slowly as possible. It seemed smartest to refrain from any sudden movements. He also stuck out his hand to the side in a protective gesture, in order to shield Courtney from whatever was coming.

“Well, I’m sober now,” Ian said. It was impossible to decipher a thing from his expressionless face. “Completely sober. Hi, Courtney. Shayne. Good poop? I bet. Anyway. See you both on Monday in my office. Eight sharp.”

And yet again, he left.

After a long moment of silence, Courtney said, “Well, Shayne, we had a good run. At least we’ll die together, right?”

The whiskey glass remained on the washbasin, forgotten. It seemed half-empty now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Had to kick up the rating, obviously.
> 
> I swear I did not plan on this originally. They were just supposed to go to Ian at work and tell him, and talk everything through, and everyone was to be sober and happy. BUT WHERE’S THE FUN IN THAT, AMIRITE? There obviously will be a continuation some time in the future. Stay tuned.
> 
> Title is from Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet and it's too perfect, really.
> 
> Last but not least — always get consent, kids.
> 
> xo


	4. you have witchcraft in your lips

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Drunk!Douchebag!Curious!Damien likes cake and lillies a bit too much.

Oddly enough, in the hours following the bathroom incident Shayne felt fine. He stayed on the designated driver duty until early morning, delivering drunk and exhausted wedding guests home. He was determined not to get the inside of his Civic puked on, which required constant vigilance and provided just enough distraction to keep him from thinking about what Monday would bring.

Around nine in the morning, he returned to the venue one last time to pick up Damien and Courtney. To his surprise, they were both waiting for him outside of the palace’s gate. Damien looked absurd, holding a single white lily in one of his hands, and what looked like half the wedding cake in the other.

“Are we trying to avoid someone?” Shayne asked innocently, hoping Courtney would get the allusion. He also resolved to ignore Damien, who was clearly not fully sober yet.

“I think Ian’s still asleep,” she said, and Shayne sighed with relief. Damien took the front seat (with difficulty), while Courtney hopped into the back and briefly kissed Shayne on the cheek from behind. “Hey. So yeah, you just missed Olivia and Sam anyway, so we came out here to be sure Ian wouldn’t find us and ask to come with. That was Damien’s genius idea.”

“So, Shanye,” Damien said when they set off, his voice plainly smug even through all the cake in his mouth. “How was your night? _Enjoyed yourself_?”

Shayne rolled his eyes. “You told him, Courtney? Oh, obviously. Why else would he propose avoiding Ian.”

“Sorry, couldn’t help myself. It’s quite funny, when you think about it.”

“Oh, it is _hi-la-ri-ous_,” Damien agreed.

“Besides, I skipped some details,” Courtney blurted.

“Excuse me, there are _more_ details?! How in hell can there be—ooooh, you filthy horndogs!”

“Great, you’ve piqued his interest.” Shayne was balancing somewhere between amusement and annoyance. “Think Douchebag Damien is atrocious? Meet his evil brother, Curious Damien.”

“I don’t _wanna_ know, but I HAVE TO KNOW.”

“There’s nothing _to_ know, so shut up,” Shayne snapped back. “And please, keep the fucking cake away from any surface. The imperative is, Courtney and I are getting axe-murdered to death tomorrow.”

“I know you’re just trying to change the subject,” said Damien, this time almost biting the lily instead of the cake, “and it’s working, because no, you’re not getting axe-murdered to death tomorrow. And I know it for a fact. Ian’s your biggest fan. Like, bigger than me, which I thought impossible until we started discussing it in detail.”

“What do you mean, discussing it in detail?!” Courtney exclaimed, while Shayne shook his head in disbelief, trying to focus on driving safely through the LA traffic; still, he left the next intersection rather aggressively. “Discussing what? And since when?!”

“Don’t quote me on this, but I’m pretty sure it started around the time of the shutdown. Originally, we were just casually picking on you behind your backs. You know, making fun of your mutual blindness and whatnot.”

Damien was waving his lily around, and explaining everything as cheerfully as if he were talking about a box full of new-born kittens. Courtney, in the meantime, was squirming with embarrassment in the back seat.

“Then, we started deliberately leaving you two alone whenever possible. And also having regular in-depth discussions on how to bring your stubborn asses together. But that’s as far as it went, I swear. We kinda bonded over it, actually.”

“Well, color me betrayed,” Shayne said drily.

“Sorry, buddy.” Damien’s impish grin did not indicate that he was sorry in the slightest. “But it worked, by some miracle! And we didn’t even have to put you two in a locked room for a week!”

“But you didn’t _actually_ do anything,” Courtney complained. “You don’t deserve the credit, bud. In the end, t’was my charming texting skills, fueled by lotsa cosmos.”

“And your Keurig played a part,” Shayne added.

“You’re right, plus a Keurig. No Haas, and no Hecox in this story.”

“Whatever you need to tell yourself.” Damien waved his lily dismissively. “Either way, you did some nasty shit in a bathroom at a wedding. I call this a _smashing_ success.”

*

When they reached Damien’s house, Courtney crawled out of the car in order to change into the front seat, but also to hug him goodbye, trying not to get cake or lily pollen all over herself.

“Everything’s gonna be all right, Court. And if not, I’ll be sure to axe-murder Ian to death myself, ‘kay?”

“I know you would, so let’s hope it doesn’t come to that,” she sighed into his neck. “Thank you. You’re the bestest of bois.”

*

“Do you regret it?”

Shayne wasn’t sure he heard her right, partly because she spoke so softly, and partly because the notion that he would regret anything that happened between them was ridiculous.

“What? Of course not.”

“I thought… maybe having to confront Ian like that would be too much. I mean, it had been a terrifying perspective before, but now, after—“ She drifted off.

_After he actually caught us hooking up. _He wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer, but he still asked, “Do _you_ regret it?”

“No! I’d do it all over again. Including the kitchen counter mishap.” She had it in her to tease him, which Shayne decided was a good sign.

“Okay. Good. Glad we’re on the same page.”

He pondered for a while whether he should further speak his mind. There was something else he wanted to express, something he didn’t quite have words for, but thought maybe if he started speaking, they’d come naturally.

“You know, Courtney,” he began slowly, “I’m nothing if not opposed to absolutes.” Courtney’s head turned. She looked at him and nodded, encouraging him to go on. “But, uh, I’ll say this—just don’t freak out or whatever—I’m _entirely_ sure I’ll never, _ever_ in my life regret anything that has to do with you, okay? With us, being together.”

She turned her head back to the window and stayed silent for a long time.

“Say something,” he pleaded when he couldn’t stand it anymore.

“I don’t—fine. That was for sure the weirdest thing anyone’s ever said to me. But also the sweetest, and possibly the most romantic.” A smug smile appeared on his face. “I’ll wipe that shit-eating grin right off,” she snarled, attempting to destroy the evidence of his satisfaction with her palm.

“Aaah, stop it, I’m driving!”

“Then stop fucking chuckling, you mad man. And don’t bite my hand!” She gave up after a while, letting the smirk linger on his face. “I’m also super scared, you wanna know why? ‘Cause you took that weird-ass thought straight outta my head, so now I’m afraid that you can read my mind or something.”

He couldn’t help it and burst out laughing. “Oh, but of course I can read minds. You _should_ be afraid.”

“Shut up, no you can’t. Virgos can’t do anything cool like that.”

“I’m an exception.”

Courtney sighed. “That you are, Shayne. That you are.”

*

Once he left Courtney safe in her apartment, he drove to his own to take a shower and go to sleep. He did attempt to scrub the previous night’s anguish off his body as well as he could, but then lay in bed, anxious all over again and completely unable to fall asleep, despite having been awake for over thirty hours. Flashes of Ian’s emotionless face kept appearing before his eyes whenever he closed them. He contemplated texting Courtney, but since she was probably fast asleep, in the end he decided against it.

Around four in the afternoon, when he was desperately trying out yet another sleep position, the door bell rang.

“Comiiiiing,” he yelled, shambling towards the door while putting on the first T-shirt he could find.

Apart from the lack of makeup, the most quintessential version of Courtney stood in his doorway — dressed in her iconic denim jacket, a cropped top, his favorite partly translucent black leggings, and worn-out chucks. The smile she gave him did not reach her eyes. She was clearly as anxious as he was.

“Yes, good, hey, hi,” he said nonsensically, exhaustion twisting his tongue, and reached for her.

They stumbled inside, kissing.

“Thought you might still be awake,” said Courtney, slightly out of breath when he let her go.

“I tried our every sleep position possible. None of them worked. Wish I was Stretch Armstrong, that’d provide more options.”

She chuckled. “I brought you pad thai, by the way.”

He looked down, realizing suddenly that a paper bag she held was hitting his leg. “Nice. Did you get extra—“ A huge yawn prevented him from ever finishing that question. “Sorry.”

“Okay, sleepy boi, let’s get you to bed,” Courtney said. “We’ll have it for breakfast. God knows we’re gonna need comfort food in the morning.”

They climbed into his bed together, and Shayne suddenly felt so serene he couldn’t keep his eyes open if he tried. He drifted off immediately, Courtney’s steady breath lulling him to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kind of a filler, but I hope it was enjoyable. Didn’t want Ian to ruin it at the end, but it also seemed like a decent place for a break, so there y’all go.
> 
> Shayne still doesn’t know that Olivia knows, so, hehe. There was no good time to tell him, okay?! Plus, he’d probably just be like, “Oh, great, another one.”
> 
> Struggled with finding the title for a while. Finally settled on Shakespeare’s Henry V.
> 
> Thank you for all the comments and kudos, they make my day!
> 
> xo


	5. come what come may, time and the hour runs through the roughest day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this last installment, Ian goes bananas, and Damien cannot keep Douchebag Damien at bay -- but everything still ends well (spoiler alert).

Courtney waited for Shayne’s alarm clock to ring, as always, at 6 sharp. Having awoken 20 minutes earlier, she stared at it in the darkness, counting seconds and minutes along with the display. Shayne’s arm was embracing her tightly. She could hear his even, peaceful breathing, the very reason she’d decided not to wake him too early. He deserved some more untroubled rest.

Her heart was beating fast, mind thinking ahead against her will. _It’ll be over in a couple hours_, she firmly said to herself. But the closer the confrontation got, the less sure she was of Ian’s good intentions. This was a major complication, a force that could potentially harm Smosh. Even if he was happy on a personal level, he may have to play the boss and do what was right for the channel. She liked to assume firing them was too harsh, especially since they didn’t technically break any contract, but then again — some unwritten rules seemed to be in place anyway, somehow still lingering in everyone’s consciousness despite Defy being long gone.

The alarm rang and Shayne stirred.

“I’ll get it, don’t worry,” she said at once, reaching out to punch the clock.

“Were you awake already?” he mumbled, pulling her back under the covers.

“Yeah, been for a while,” she whispered, and let her hand sneak around his waist. “It’ll be fine. It has to be. Right?”

“Well, the way I see it,” Shayne said, his voice still groggy and hoarse from sleep, but somehow also cheerful, “even if Ian goes berserk, I’ll say it was still worth it.” She smiled, feeling the anxiety slowly evaporating from her body. He stroked a loose strand of her hair and tucked it behind her ear. “Hey.”

“Hey, yourself.”

“D’you wanna get up?”

“Not really,” she sighed. “I slept like a baby. Your mattress is fucking incredible, dude.”

“I know. How’s the pillow, though?”

Her head was currently lying on his chest, so she snorted with laughter. “A bit dense.”

“Good. Just as intend—oh, wait.” He hopped out of the bed all of a sudden, which caused Courtney’s head to hang mid-air.

“What the hell?” she asked, confused.

“Just remembered there’s pad thai in the fridge,” Shayne yelled, already out of the room, “and I need it right this second.”

When he came back with a huge bowl of food in one hand and two forks in the other, Courtney was sitting on the bed cross-legged, a lazy smile plastered to her face.

“You deprived me of my new favorite pillow,” she accused him, throwing an actual pillow into his stomach. “That’s a grave offense.”

Shayne, who barely managed to maneuver the bowl out of the way of the pillow, winced and said, “You’ve just almost deprived me of pad thai, so I guess we’re even?”

She scrambled to him when he sat on the bed, having set the bowl securely on the bedside table. “You’re lucky you’re cute,” she whispered, lips very close to his face, “and I can’t stay mad at cute bois.”

“Ian said eight sharp,” Shayne breathed out weakly against her mouth. He inhaled sharply when she straddled him.

“We’ll be a tiny bit late, then.”

*

There was a sheet of paper taped to the back entrance of Mythical that Smosh employees usually used. It was a handwritten message, addressed specifically to them.

“C and S,” Courtney read out loud. “TNTL set. No lights.” She turned to Shayne. “I have a bad feeling about this. And no lights? What does that mean?”

“Oh, he’s up to _something_ for sure,” Shayne said, tearing the paper off of the door. He pushed the entrance open. There were no windows in this part of the building, so it was fairly dark inside, save for some odd red glow coming from down the hall. “I’m guessing we’re not supposed put on the lights?”

“We joked about it,” Courtney said slowly, “but for real now, is this how we die?”

Shayne grabbed her hand and stepped inside. They followed a corridor that led deeper into the studio, and found out the source of the red glow behind a corner — a spotlight covered in crimson fabric, pointed directly at them. They both squinted.

“What the hell,” Courtney whispered, and felt Shayne squeezing her hand reassuringly.

The entrance to the set where they filmed Try Not To Laughs was just behind the next corner. “Ready?” Shayne asked when they reached the door.

“Fuck no,” Courtney laughed nervously, “but we can’t chicken out now.”

What they saw was completely surreal — Ian stood with his eyes closed in the middle of the stage, dressed in presumably all white clothing, although it was hard to tell for sure, since he was also engulfed in red lighting coming from another spotlight. Opposite him, two chairs were prepared for them, each with an envelope lying on top.

“Ian, is everything okay?” Courtney asked. Even though the envelopes looked scary, she was not so much anxious anymore as legitimately worried that Ian has lost his mind.

“Sit,” he said without opening his eyes.

Shayne grabbed his envelope unceremoniously and sat, shaking his head in disbelief. Courtney also took a seat, reaching for her envelope with more apprehension. She wanted nothing more than to tear it open, but knew it had to wait. All they could do now was observe what was about to unfold.

Ian cleared his throat rather aggressively, opened his eyes, and said in a very serious tone, “This is a dramatic rendering of what’s the inside of my brain looked like for the last two days.”

“_Hell_ no,” said Shayne immediately.

“Yeah, I don’t know if I want to see that,” Courtney added.

“Sadly, you don’t get to choose,” Ian scolded them. “Shut up and watch. This is a masterpiece. It took a whole _hour_ to conceive, so.” He cleared his throat again. “Courtney, my Smosh sister, whose butt I’ve seen on multiple occasions and wish I hadn’t, together with that clown, Shayne Topp!” Ian yelled dramatically.

“That’s fair,” Shayne shrugged.

“Shayne Topp, my Smosh brother, whose butt I thankfully haven’t seen yet, and hope I never will, together with that other clown, Courtney Miller!”

“Hey!” Courtney protested. “Well...”

“Olivia Sui!” Ian screamed, extending his left arm. “Sam Lerner!” he yelled, extending the other. He connected both of his hands over his head in a dramatic gesture.

Courtney glanced at Shayne, who was completely dumbfounded. She understood his bewilderment perfectly — they have discussed many ways in which this could go, but their boss performing a monodrama was the last thing either of them would expect.

Ian carried on, and with each passing minute more and more chaos ensued. Courtney could follow it quite easily up until the bathroom incident, especially since he wiggled his body in a suggestive way. Then, however, Ian started frantically thrashing around the stage, executing the choreography of some bizarre interpretative dance, and in the meantime shouting out random words like “chagrin”, “bliss”, “sweet validation”, and “what”, the latter many times over.

When the performance neared the end — that is, when Ian got so breathless that Courtney started to worry about him all over again — Shayne leaned into her and whispered, “This is beyond doubt the best thing I’ve ever seen.”

She stifled a laugh.

Ian concluded his act by gesturing at them both to stand up and come closer. He put his arms around their necks and squeezed so hard that they both simultaneously groaned with pain.

“Ew, you’re so sweaty,” Courtney grunted.

“I had to get this out of my system,” Ian said, as if that explained anything that has just happened. He was breathing heavily, and refused to let go of them. “But let’s not talk about my excellent performance. I am on cloud nine, you guys. I am _elated_.”

“That’s great, but would you mind—“

“We have to hug it out, Shayne. It’s the only way to cancel out the awkwardness of me walking in on you two slangin’ dong.”

“Is it?! You’re sure it’s the _only_ way?”

“Fine,” Ian sighed, and let go of them at last. “By the way, you have to know that it took every ounce of restraint I had in me not to prank your asses today.”

“This, your, um—“ Courtney hesitated, struggling to find a word to accurately describe Ian’s performance, “yeah, well, _this_... was a much better idea.”

“Oh yeah,” Shayne nodded, clearly fighting a very strong urge to burst out laughing. “_Definitely_.”

“I know you’re full of shit, but I don’t care. It felt fucking _great_. I’m thinking of adapting it into a Broadway show. And who knows, then maybe some international tour and—“

“All right, all right.” Courtney rolled her eyes. “Can we open the envelopes already?”

“Oh, sure,” Ian shrugged. “These are just some HR papers you need to fill asap. But other than that, you’re allowed to do whatever. I mean, obviously, no sex on the premises.”

They both blushed, and avoided looking at each other. Shayne was definitely thinking about the same occurrence she had in mind, from a few weeks back; it’d been before Damien caught them, back when they hadn’t been that careful.

“Jesus Christ, unbelievable,” Ian sighed.

“What?!” Shayne tried hard, but this time feigning ignorance proved unsuccessful. “I don’t even know what you’re trying to sugges—“

“_From this moment on_,” Ian pressed, “no sex on the premises. Come on, let’s turn on the normal lights and go to my office. I’ve got questions.”

*

“So what’s up with the red lighting?” Courtney asked out of curiosity when they entered Ian’s office and sat down. “And this white outfit?”

“It’s _symbolism_, Courtney. Red for love—though it turned out more bloody than anything, guess.” Shayne laughed so hard he almost fell off his chair. “Shut up, Shayne. And white was meant to be innocent, which is exactly what you two are not, so I don’t know what I was thinking. It made perfect sense in my head when I was still drunk from the wedding, okay? By the way, not that I’m ashamed, but if you ever mention what happened here today to anyone, I will _destroy_ you.”

“Understood,” Shayne managed to cough up, still chuckling uncontrollably. “It’s a shame though, this has been your best performance to date. And no camera was on?”

“Don’t get your hopes up, I made absolutely sure of that. Anyway, listen. I need to get some facts straight. You two are dating, yes?”

“Yeah, exactly,” Courtney confirmed, voice much heavier with affection than she cared for. She reached for Shayne’s hand, entwining their fingers together.

“Since?”

“Just a few weeks,” Shayne said.

Someone knocked at the door – unexpectedly, Josh Scherer peeped inside. “Hey, guys,” he said, oblivious at first. “I was just about to make coffee and saw—oooh.” When his eyes locked on Shayne and Courtney’s intertwined hands, a smug smile crept onto his face. “_Interesting_. How long?”

“Just a few weeks,” Courtney repeated after Shayne with a sigh, not seeing the point in denying anything anymore.

“No, no. Be more precise. Was it still in March?”

“Why?” she frowned.

Josh immediately confirmed her suspicions. “‘Cause if by any chance y’all hooked up in March, Jordan owes me lots of cash,” he explained cheerfully.

“Well, Courtney, I guess the universe won’t let us keep this under wraps,” said Shayne. “I wonder who else knows at this point.”

Something occurred to her all of a sudden. “Oh, wait, I completely forgot to tell you, but Olivia found out at the wedding.”

“Of course she did!” Shayne exclaimed. “Why am I not surprised! So Sam knows?”

“Yep. And yes, Josh, for the record, it was March still. Jordan totally owes you.”

“Awesome,” Josh grinned. “I’ll make a pot of celebratory coffee, then. See ya around, lovebirds.”

After the door closed behind him, Shayne started counting. “So we’ve got Damien, Olivia, Sam… obviously you, Ian… I’m guessing the HR lady, Josh, and now also Jordan…“

“That’s already a small crowd,” Ian grinned. “And I hear that Josh can’t keep a secret to save his life.”

“And why are you so pleased about it, Ian, huh?” Courtney asked, suddenly angry. “What’s next, you gonna start planning our wedding? Can we learn the date, or is it gonna be a fucking surprise for a video? Or would you have us be all lovey-dovey on camera as soon as possible, because I swear to you, that’s _never_ gonna happen.”

“Whoa, whoa.” Ian put his hands up defensively. “I’m sorry, guys, truly. I realize the situation may not be ideal.”

“No shit.”

“No pressure from me, okay? Take all the time you need. I can’t vouch for the rest of the squad, but when it comes to revealing anything to the public, you’re gonna do it on your terms. Or not at all, if that’s what you want.”

“Good,” Courtney grunted. “I’m just… nervous, okay. This is complicated.”

“Have you… thought about this?” Ian asked cautiously. “If you decide to go public, how do you want to do this?”

Courtney looked at Shayne, who shrugged, and answered truthfully. “No, we haven’t really discussed it yet.”

“You haven’t discussed it? Then what have you been doing all this ti—wait, never mind. Don’t answer that question.”

“I think Smoshcast is the way to go,” Shayne said.

Courtney thought about it for a while, and eventually nodded. “Yeah, it’s a safe space. Smosh Pit is for silly stuff, and this is—well—“

“Far from silly,” Shayne finished.

“Yeah,” she whispered, squeezing his hand.

Ian smiled. “Well, all right, I think that concludes this.”

“I have a question,” Courtney said, “Damien said you two dum-dums hardcore shipped us behind our backs.”

“That’s not a question. And was it _really_ behind your backs? I thought we were being quite obvious.”

“Still, what gives?” Shayne asked.

Ian threw his hands up. “I mean, can you blame us?”

Courtney looked at Shayne, who smiled at her gently, and lifted their intertwined hands to place a light kiss on her knuckles. She shook her pumpkin spice head and chuckled. “Honestly, no. We’re fucking adorable.”

**eight months later**

“All right, guys, we have a few minutes left, so let’s end this episode with a little segment I like to call ‘Funny News’.”

Courtney braced herself, looking up to study the faces of the three men sitting with her at the round table. Shayne’s was focused and neutral, something that required immense amounts of composure on his part. Ian was slightly amused, but then again — a shadow of a smirk lingered on his face at all times, so it was hard to tell whether there was something more to it this time. Damien, that soft boi, looked the most concerned out of the three, although she also saw a faint flash of Douchebag Damien in his eyes. That part of him probably yearned to tease the hell out of them.

‘Funny News’, that was it. Her cue. Her chance. _Their_ chance. She could either take it or leave it. Ian had a backup story prepared, just in case she bailed at the last second, so there really was no pressure. Shayne was on board either way, and even now he was looking at her without expectation, although she knew he’d rather have it over with already. Keeping such a secret for months on end was exhausting for them both.

“We actually have two stories prepared,” Ian went on, “but there’s not enough time for both, so someone has to choose. One of them is genuinely funny, or at least Ian-funny. But the other is on a more serious note. Courtney, you’re the decider, which one you’re feeling more?”

_Okay. Fuck it._ Courtney leaned into the mic and said, “I think today the segment should be called ‘Serious News’.”

Ian frowned. _Did_ _he not expect me to go through with it?_ “You sure?”

“Yes.”

“_Absolutely_ sure?”

“Yeeees. Hundred percent. Let’s _do_ this.”

“Okay, great. Why don’t you tell us about your plans for Christmas, then.”

“Well, Ian, Damien… Shayne. My bois. I’m flying to Utah to get my annual supply of hugs and kisses from Jango.”

“Oh, for a second there I thought you were gonna say ‘my mom’,” Damien chuckled.

“My mom, too. But I bet she’s not gonna be interested in me, as much as in _someone else_ I’m bringing along.”

“Ooooh, snap!” Shayne said, grinning widely.

“Shut up. So yeah, I’m actually taking my _boyfriend_ to meet my mom.”

Ian and Damien whooped excitedly, and Shayne exclaimed, “What! Serious news from Courtney!”

Courtney punched his arm, rolling her eyes. She knew he couldn’t help the joking, though, it fought off anxiety. “Y’all are acting like you don’t know who he is.”

“We’re getting the listeners hyped for the reveal,” Damien explained in his usual calm voice, though there was also a hint of mischief lurking deep in it – Douchebag Damien was raising his head expectantly.

“Ugh. They’ve been hyped for years now, trust me,” Courtney mumbled.

“What was that? Wanna elaborate?” Ian encouraged.

“Okay, look. Argh. Lord knows we did everything in our power not to make a big deal—“

“I am _so_ happy,” Shayne blurted suddenly, and covered his mouth with both hands to stifle a nervous laughter that threatened to escape. Again, a reaction to stress, but Courtney didn’t doubt for a second that he was also extremely excited. This has been long due. “Sorry. Go on, Courtney, please.”

She thought for a moment, placed a hand on his shoulder, leaned into the microphone and teasingly said, “Interrupt me again, babe, and I swear I’ll cancel your plane ticket to Utah.”

Two seconds passed in complete silence, during which everyone processed the implication of that sentence.

“Wait, WHAT?!” Damien screamed, and put his arm against his forehead as if he was about to swoon.

“THIS IS COMPLETELY NEW INFORMATION,” Ian added, his voice loud and heavy with sarcasm. “Whatever do you mean, Courtney?!”

Before Courtney managed to say anything, Damien went full Douchebag and started hissing directly into his mic. “Issss Sssshartney real? Why yessss, it issss. And get thissss, Ian and I made it happen.”

“That’s not true _at all_,” Courtney protested. “Can we be adults about this? You see, guys,” she addressed the listeners, “see why I was apprehensive about this? My bois are unbelievable.”

But frankly, she didn’t mind. She was trying not to laugh herself. A huge weight has just been lifted off her shoulders, and she felt giddy. Shayne offered Courtney his hand by putting it on the table, extended towards her. She gladly took it, and his wide smile blinded her.

“Oh my gawd, will you sssstop being sssso cute,” said Damien, still whispering his words into the mic for comedic purposes.

“Don’t ya all be weird about this,” Shayne warned, pointing a finger of his free hand at the cameras. “And especially you, Ian. And Damien.”

“They been slangin’ doooong,” Ian said immediately, a shit-eating grin creeping onto his face.

“Okay, all right,” Courtney sighed. “Let’s just leave it at that, shall we?”

“They been slangin’ dong _with each other_,” Damien chimed in.

“It’s cute how you two are trying to embarrass us,” Shayne said firmly, “when there’s nothing to be embarrassed about.”

Ian shrugged. “Fine, Shayne, ruin all the fun. Oh, actually, this isn’t the end of it. Prepare for Armageddon in the comments. Let us know, guys, if you want us to grill these two some more in future episodes.”

“I bet ya all the comments will be like ‘No, thanks, we’re good’,” said Shayne, laughing.

“There are some funny stories, actually,” Courtney added. “The way Olivia found out is _unreal_. She just figured it out by herself.”

“Are you sure that’s _the most_ unreal story?” asked Damien mischievously, glancing at Ian.

“Shut up, Douchebag Damien,” Ian grunted. “Okay, let’s end the podcast before someone says something they’re gonna regret later.”

While he proceeded with the usual ending routine, Courtney glanced at Shayne. He was relieved, and relaxed. And simply happy.

_All right_, she thought_. Here we go._

**the end**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What a long boi, phew.
> 
> Sadly, this is the end of this particular storyline -- but fear not, I shall be back. I already have a small Smosh project in my mind ;) Thank you so much for reading, voting, and commenting, guys! It truly means a lot :) A special shoutout to @AliceChained (on Wattpad) for all her encouraging words, thank you dude <3
> 
> Funny thing, I wrote the pad thai scene way before Shayne literally mentioned eating leftover pad thai for breakfast on the podcast XD am I clairvoyant or what? (it’s episode 37, currently the newest one)
> 
> I originally did plan on Ian pranking them with some fake dismissal documents or something along those lines, but eventually decided that’d be unnecessarily cruel on his part, and probably out of character. An interpretative dance routine, on the other hand? Once this idea popped into my head I couldn’t not write it XD
> 
> Just in case anyone was wondering, in my head this story takes place in the future, so around March-April, and then December 2020.
> 
> Choosing the title for the finale was a nightmare. I chose one before I even started writing this last chapter, thinking it was somewhat fitting. Then I thought “Nah”, spent hours searching for another, only to come back to the one I chose originally xd In any case, it’s from Macbeth. I think I may be out of fitting Shakespearian quotes at this point.
> 
> Thanks again, guys!


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